Gotham's docks smelled like rust and saltwater. Crates were stacked haphazardly, some broken open with their contents spilled across the concrete. A group of men in dirty jackets huddled near a flickering floodlight, passing around a bottle.
Then the screaming started.
Bane moved through them like a wrecking ball. He didn't waste time with fancy moves—just grabbed the nearest guy by the shirt and threw him into a stack of wooden pallets. The wood splintered on impact.
"Where is Scarecrow's shipment?" Bane's voice was calm, which made it worse.
One of the men, a skinny guy with a broken nose, held up his hands. "We don't know! We're just hired muscle!"
Bane sighed. He reached down, grabbed the man's wrist, and twisted. The snap was loud in the sudden quiet.
A giggle cut through the night.
Bane turned.
Harley Quinn sat cross-legged on top of a shipping container, chin propped in her hands like she was watching a movie. Next to her, leaning against a support beam, was a man in a ridiculous outfit—red and black, with that stupid grin.
"Well, well," Bane said. "The clown and the magician."
Harley swung her legs. "Aw, c'mon, Bane. That's *Mistah J's* line. You gotta get your own material."
Hisoka flicked a playing card between his fingers. "He's not wrong, though. You *do* look like a clown."
Harley stuck her tongue out at him. "You're one to talk, Mr. 'I-Dress-Like-A-Circus-Tent.'"
Bane cracked his knuckles. "If you're here to talk, leave. If you're here to fight, then *fight*."
Hisoka's grin widened. "Oh, we're definitely here to fight."
Hisoka moved first.
He didn't run—just *appeared* in front of Bane, close enough that Bane could see the glint in his eyes. His fist shot out, aimed straight for Bane's ribs.
Bane took the hit. He barely moved.
Hisoka's eyebrows went up. "Huh."
Bane swung. Hisoka twisted out of the way, but the wind from the punch ruffled his hair.
Harley whistled from the sidelines. "Damn, Bane. You been workin' out?"
Bane ignored her. He lunged, grabbing for Hisoka's throat. Hisoka ducked, sliding between Bane's legs and popping up behind him. A playing card flashed in the dim light, slicing across Bane's back.
It barely drew blood.
Hisoka frowned. "You're *really* tough."
Bane turned. "And you're annoying."
Harley clapped. "Ooooh, *burn*."
Hisoka rolled his eyes. "You're not helping."
"Wasn't tryin' to."
Bane charged. Hisoka dodged, but Bane was faster than he looked. A massive hand closed around Hisoka's arm and *yanked*. Hisoka went flying, hit a shipping container, and crumpled to the ground.
Harley winced. "Oof. That looked like it hurt."
Hisoka sat up, rubbing his shoulder. "A little."
Bane cracked his neck. "Stay down."
Hisoka grinned. "Nah."
He lunged again. This time, Bane was ready. He caught Hisoka mid-air and slammed him into the concrete. The ground cracked under the impact.
Harley stopped smiling.
Hisoka coughed. "Okay. *That* hurt."
Bane raised a fist.
Then Harley's mallet hit him in the side of the head.
Bane stumbled. Not much, but enough for Hisoka to scramble away.
Harley twirled her mallet. "Hey, big guy. Play fair."
Bane wiped his mouth. "You first."
Hisoka wiped blood from his lip, grinning. His ribs ached where Bane had slammed him into the concrete, but the pain was familiar. Exciting, even.
Harley bounced on her toes nearby, mallet resting on her shoulder. "Okay, plan time. You distract him, I'll hit him with the *big* grenade."
Hisoka side-eyed her. "You've been holding out on me."
She winked. "Gotta save the best for last, sugar."
Bane cracked his neck, veins bulging under the Venom's influence. "Talk all you want. It won't change the outcome."
Hisoka flicked a playing card at Bane's face—a distraction. Bane swatted it away, but Hisoka was already moving, darting behind a stack of crates. Harley lobbed her grenade underhand, like she was tossing a softball.
Bane caught it.
The explosion lit up the docks.
Smoke billowed, choking the air. When it cleared, Bane stood in a crater of shattered concrete, his armor blackened, one of his Venom tubes sparking. But he was still upright.
Harley whistled. "Yeesh. Do ya gotta be *this* stubborn?"
Bane took a step forward—then froze. Hisoka's fingers twitched, and Bane looked down. Thin, nearly invisible threads (Bungee Gum) coiled around his remaining Venom line, pinching it shut.
Hisoka smirked. "Ah. *Now* we're even."
Bane's eyes flicked to Harley. She grinned and held up a second grenade—neon pink, with a cartoon bat doodled on the side.
"Oopsie," she said, and dropped it.
Bane roared.
The blast swallowed the docks in fire and smoke.
...
TO BE CONTINUED.